Father and Son
by SongsofPsyche1945
Summary: Repost/updated. Han tries his best as a father to understand why Ben is shutting him out. Slightly AU. Takes place before Episode VII. Trigger warning: PTSD, elements of non/con and anxiety.


WARNING: PTSD, Non-Con and anxiety triggers are in this story. If any of those topics bother you, please turn around and find something else to read. I care about my readers and I would hate to cause anyone distress. Thank you for understanding.

I do not own the Star Wars universe or any of these characters; I am merely a fan who loves to write.

Han stared quietly at his son from across the kitchen table and tried not to notice how his hands shook as he did the dishes. Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Ben had walked through that kitchen door with blood on his face and fear in his eyes, and Han was starting to worry that he was loosing his only son. Han wished things were different, he wished that Leia, Ben's mother was still here with them, he wished that Ben would stop blaming him for his mother leaving them, he wished he had a more stable job, but most of all, he wished that Ben would just talk to him. Ben was so young, yet he had seen too much in his short fifteen years, he was a boy without a mother, a boy with a father who worked too damn hard to even be there for him when he needed it most.

Han once again wished for the thousandth time that Leia was here to help him. She had left them five months ago in the aftermath of a bitter fight that had started over the dishes. He had heard from her a few times, but he knew she wasn't going to come back this time. Han felt like he was drowning; he had no idea how to talk to his son about anything, let alone his _feelings._ Han had some inkling of what happened to Ben—judging from the bruises and flinches, he had been beaten or worse by god knows who. Han wanted answers, he wanted to know if Ben was okay, he wanted just some sort of sign that Ben would go back to being his normal self because he didn't know how to deal with this kind of thing.

"Ben"

Ben continued to clean the dishes, still not looking at Han in the eye, still not saying a word.

"Ben, son. Look at me." Han tried again, not ignoring the shaking in his son's fingers as he meticulously cleaned each plate.

"Fine. If you're not going to look at me, then just listen. I don't know what's going on with you-I don't know because you haven't said more than two words to me for the past three weeks—but what I do know is that this had gone on way too long. Don't think I haven't noticed how you flinch away from my every touch, or how you never look me in the eye anymore. I've let you be for two weeks in hope that you would get better on your own, but you haven't. So now I'm asking you again; what happened? What did they do to you to make you so scared?"

Ben froze, and for a moment Han actually thought he had gotten through to him. Then Ben spoke, so softly that Han thought he had mistaken it for the one inside his head.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you care so damn much about what happened to me? All you've done these past weeks is hover over me. Like I said a million times before; nothing happened to me. I am fine!" he said, clutching the sink with white knuckles and glaring at the floor.

"Because you are my son, and I love you." Han whispered

"You are all I have left in the world." He continued after a beat.

He shook his head, he stood up and took one tentative step towards Ben and when he didn't react, he took another. Ben didn't react until his hand was an inch away from his shoulder. Ben immediately flinched away from Han's touch and took a few steps backwards away from him into the bookshelf that lined their kitchen wall. Something on the other side fell over with a bang and both Ben and Han jumped at the noise.

"Don't touch me." Ben said in a barely audible thin whisper.

Han nodded, and held up both hands.

"Okay, it's okay. Please tell me what-."

"I'm fine." Ben stated, staring intently at the ground.

"No." Han huffed in frustration

Ben visibly flinched at his raised voice, and Han sighed.

"No. No, you are not fine. Something happened to you to make you flinch away from me and I want to know. Now." he asked again.

Han looked up at him and was surprised to see that Ben was battling for composure.

"Ben…" Han said softly "Look at me."

And he waited patiently for Ben's glassy eyes to meet his. Their eyes met for a split second and Han forced himself not to flinch away from the shattered soul he saw. Then Ben looked away, at the ceiling, at the still dirty plates, at the floor. Anywhere but at Han.

Han sighed softly.

"I'm not going to hurt you." he said softly, looking up at Ben, who flinched again as if Han's very words hurt him. Han then reached out his hand and gently cupped Ben's chin, bringing his head up.

"I am not going to hurt you." Han repeated. He felt Ben try to flinch away but he kept his hand where it was, keeping their eyes locked.

"I am not going to let you push me away."

Ben jerked his chin away and turned from Han with a shaky exhale.

"Please. I'm at the end of my rope here. I know you miss your mother—I do too—but you have to learn to trust me. I am your father, you can tell me anything." He said

Ben just scoffed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, then crossed his arms over his chest and took a few steps away from Han.

 _He's going to run_ Han thought, _He's going to run if you don't stop him right now and then you will never see him again._

"Okay….okay…Let's see. You don't want to be touched—which is fine— we can work with that, but you have to trust that I wont hurt you. You are safe here. Nobody can get in and out of this house except for us. Nobody is going to hurt you." Han said, trying to look his son in the eye, but it was hard to do with Ben staring at the floor.

Ben stood perfectly still. He seemed to be thinking over what Han had said. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Ben nodded his head.

"Okay." he said in a thin whisper.

Han nodded, "Alright." he said softly.

They stood there in silence. To Han it seemed like days, instead of just a few minutes. As much as he wanted to push Ben, to ask him what was wrong, Han knew that he had to wait for him to say something. So he waited patiently for Ben to collect his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

It was so quiet; Han didn't quite believe that his son had actually spoken. He looked up and for the first time that night, Ben was looking towards him—not quite in the eye, but close enough.

"It's alright." Han said softly.

"No it's not." Ben answered

"What?"

"I'm not okay." he whispered.

"I know. Can you tell me—?" Han asked, holding his breath.

Ben shrugged his shoulders.

"B-son. Look at me." Han said, taking a few steps towards him. Ben in turn backed away from him until his back hit the wall.

Han sighed. "Is this about your mother?"

Ben shook his head.

"Is this about what happened a few weeks ago, when you walked in with blood on your face?"

Ben nodded his head.

"Did someone hurt you?"

Ben nodded his head again.

Han sighed and tried to contain his rage. How dare someone hurt _his_ son. How dare someone hurt Ben. Just the thought of someone going out of his way to hurt an innocent kid made him furious.

"What happened? Who did it?" he asked, and prayed the Ben had the courage to answer.

"I-I-was walking home—it was late and….dark and someone followed me."

Han stared at his son. Someone followed him? Why? How?

"Why?" he asked, feeling his temper flair up.

"What?" Ben looked up at him.

"Do you know why you were followed? Why didn't you call me for a ride? What-."

"I'm sorry Dad …"

Ben sighed and muttered something that Han couldn't hear.

"What? What did you say?"

"I thought I would be okay. Okay? I thought that if I just walked faster I would loose him and I would make it home…and I did. I was fine. I am fine." He said, balling his hands into fists.

"How can you say that? I can you tell me that you are fine when I can see your hands shaking from here? Who did this to you? Who-."

"Stop. STOP. Please stop it." Han was interrupted by Ben's feeble whisper

"Ben?" Han asked, but the boy remained silent, eyes lingering on nothing in the darkening room. Han felt his temper flair up again. Why couldn't Ben just _tell_ him what happened? Why couldn't he just say it so they could fix it and get it over with?

"Why are you shutting me out? Please, tell me what happened. I want to help you. I am your father and you are my son. We're a team. _Please,_ son, Ben. Tell me." Han asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling, his temper turning from rage to panic. What if something really bad happened? Was it some other enemy? One Han didn't know about, was if-

"It's not that simple…" Ben started, and then stopped gulping hard.

"What?" Han asked

Ben winced and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I can't—-."

"Please…." Han asked again, stepping closer to Ben and hoping that Ben could trust him enough to tell him what happened.

"Because—I think—they didn't just beat me up—I think—-I think I was raped." Ben whispered, finally looking up at Han with dead serious eyes.

Silence.

They both stared at each other. Han felt his heart sink. _Not this_ he thought _anything but this._ Han was well aware of the concept of rape, but he never seen it up close. Mostly he read in the papers, usually followed by words like "pillaged" or "murdered". Never had he thought in a million years that it would happen to someone he loved more than life itself. He watched helplessly as Ben shivered and slid down the wall onto the floor, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around himself.

"What?" Han asked, only because he still didn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. It couldn't have happened to Ben, to his son. His little boy who just a few years ago had been a hapless toddler walking down the hallway wearing Chewie's belt and wailing at the top of his lungs for his father's attention. And all of a sudden Han felt very very much alone. How could he do this? How could he let his son carry this burden with him? And for the millionth time that night Han wished Leia were there. She would have known what to do. She would have offered a mother's comfort—something Han could never do.

"I couldn't tell you… They took me—they hurt me. And it wasn't just—I didn't want it. I swear I didn't want it but they wouldn't stop. They never stopped, I can't make them—" Han's thoughts were interrupted by Ben's whispered words, brittle and shaking they hung in the dense air around Han and refused to fall to the ground.

"Ben—-" Han whispered, he knelt down and joined his son on the floor, kneeling across from the boy, at loss at what to do.

"Don't make me say it again." Ben cuts Han off, looking down at his knees.

"Oh Ben. I am sorry. I am so so sorry." Han said, resisting the urge to gather his son up in a hug. Ben pulled his legs into his chest, making him appear incredibly small up against the wall.

"I didn't know." Han said

"I know." Ben answered.

"But now I do. And I'm going to do everything I can to make it right."

Ben looked up at him, "How? How can you make it right? How can anything ever be right again when I cant even let my own father near me?"

Han looked at his son, feeling at loss what to do or say.

"I don't know" Han said.

"I wish Mom were here." he whispered softly, and Han felt his heart break a little.

"Me too." He said

Ben buried his head in his hands and stifled a sob.

"Ben. _Ben._ Look at me." Han said, putting his hand on Ben's knee and for once Ben didn't flinch away from his touch. He waited until Ben looked up at him.

"Talk to _me._ You can trust me, I promise." Han said.

Ben stared at him for ten whole seconds. Han counted them in his head; _one millennium falcon, two millennium falcons, three millennium falcons…._

"I…I don't think I can. Not now, not _ever._ It hurts-." Ben started, but then trailed off with a wince.

"Oh Ben, oh son. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"How? How can it ever be okay?" Ben asked in a brittle voice, gripping his long hair—hair that was the same color of Leia's—in his hands and pulling hard.

"Ben. Ben _stop."_ Han said, grabbing his son's wrists and pulling them away from those long dark curls and up to his chest. Ben winced and Han felt him flinch underneath his grip. Han let go and watched helplessly as his son flinched away from him, shivering against the wall.

"I don't know, Son. I just don't know. But what I do know is that I will do everything I can to make it okay. You just have to trust me that it's going to work out." Han said

"How?"

" You have to trust me. Can you do that?" Han asked

Ben was silent for ten whole seconds, but then he slowly nodded his head.

"I can do that." He whispered softly. Then he finally, _finally_ reached for his father and Han took his shaking cold hand in his.

"You have to promise me one thing though." Han said

Ben looked up at him.

"I am going to get you the help you need, but you have to promise not to run away."

The scoff and incredulous look was so much like the normal Ben, Han almost smiled.

"Promise." Ben said quietly, he shifted and winced slightly. And for the first time that night, he looked his father in the eyes. Their eyes finally locked and for the first time in a very long time, Han saw a glimmer of light at the end of this very, _very_ long tunnel. The road to recover would be a long one, but Han had faith that they would pull through. The weren't perfect but this was a start.

The End.

Author's Note 1/11/2016:

I just wanted to remind you all about writing etiquette and what adequate feedback means. I totally will accept constructive criticism, everyone should, it's the only way we can become better writers but I will not accept hateful comments. Constructive criticism is defined as the process of offering valid and well-reasoned opinions about the work of others, usually involving both positive and negative comments, in a friendly manner rather than an oppositional one. The purpose of **constructive criticism** is to improve the outcome. It basically comes down to this: I can write whatever I want, and if you don't like it, that's fine but please be respectful of my work.

We are all on here because we love to read and write fanfiction, and I fully support everyone who reads, writes and posts . Some write because they want to tell a story, others write as a way to cope with their past and to heal, and some write purely because they love it.

I understand that this story contains sensitive topics and I have changed that reflectively by upping the rating from T to M and putting a warning up in the summary section. I apologize for not putting them up before, it was my mistake and I take full responsibility for it.

Thank you all for reading and understanding.

-SongsofPsyche


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